Morning observations 

Hustle bustle, metallic clangs and the distant whine of sleepy children . Muffled music straining,

Through the hiss of coffee spiked steam 

Device lead zombies trudge 

With invisible eyes leading their way, thumbs tapping furiously with muted frustration etched upon sallow brows.

Whatever happened to talking on the phone?

People altogether but isolated 

Crowded but alone 

Each body a separate entity consumed in its own aura of self-important arrogance. 

Slaves to the commute 

Victims of the corporate 

Cogs in the machine of 

the social miasma 

Feeding the hunger of the materialistic monster, 

Gnawing at the minds of those who were once carefree young souls. 

Why don’t people talk anymore 

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